Forget or Die Forgotten
by Kailey Hamilton
Summary: "Charlie had another shot. And another. And another. Such a kind of alcohol was just like water until it reached the inside, where it evoked the most interesting, amazing reactions leaving a sweet aftertaste. Just like Katie." Charlie Weasley and Katie Bell throughout the years. Oneshot for Kelly.


_Notes:__ *insert redundant disclaimer here*_

___I hinted on tumblr about the little bit of research I did for this, and what I stumbled upon -and referenced on here- was the marvelous drink called tuica (tzvee-ka) which is a Romanian alcoholic drink and was very slightly adapted and, um, magified for entertainment purposes. Vulcan is an actual Romanian city, as well._

_And this was all for the absolutely perfect** Kelly (HedwigBlack)** for the Gift-Giving Extravaganza._

_**Kelly:** I felt the pressure of having to write for one of my favorite authors and I was freaking out a bit, toying with different pairings and ideas, until this happened (and I swear it's not a last-minute story even though it seems like it.) I'm happy with this piece, and I'm happy to be gifting it to you - I hope you like it!_

_A million thanks to **Liza (Forever Siriusly Sirius)** for agreeing to look over this piece :)_

* * *

**Forget or Die Forgotten**

Years later, Charlie would be amazed at how he'd spent a full year in her constant presence and he'd let it go to waste.

Then again, back then he'd been eighteen and had no reason to think much of eleven-year-old Katie Bell, other than she was a few centimeters too short and a few decibels too loud. He knew she excelled at her Flying Lessons, and she'd had the tendency to fall asleep on the sofa next to the fire on Wednesday nights, not being able to stay awake for her Astronomy lessons.

Because of that, she'd already lost house points and earned detentions and, noticing no one in her year cared to wake her up, he'd thought it would make for the least unpleasant of his prefect duties.

That's all he heard or knew of Katie until the very day he left Hogwarts. The goodbyes he got were warm and sad and humbling – he never thought that pretty much every Gryffindor had something to say about him. But he couldn't deny that he quickly got tired of the same old questions. He was tired of explaining he was going to work with dragons instead of dedicating his life to Quidditch. He was tired of explaining that he was leaving the country and no, he didn't know if he could keep in touch.

But then came that tiny, loud first-year that didn't ask _which team will you play for?_ or _will you write?_ but, "Who will wake me up before Astronomy?"

She'd meant it as a joke, judging her big grin and nonchalant attitude. But he still was filled with the irrational urge to say_ I'll stay; I will._ His thoughts were taken over with nostalgia and the obvious gratitude she seemed to felt, the overwhelming feeling that juggling his duties with his passions had paid off, in some minimal sort of way – and he was unable to answer.

Such sentimental thoughts made him realize, for the first time, that he would miss this life.

* * *

Years later, Charlie would regret missing the chance to be her new beginning.

But back then, romantic love was the last thing he could think about when the world he knew and loved could be ending in one night. He was back in Hogwarts to fight Voldemort, and judging by Katie's lack of reaction regarding their encounter –their first in seven years- so was she.

He allowed himself to notice Katie because she looked as disheveled as someone who'd been months on the run. Her gaze still retained some childlike sweetness and innocence, but he was no longer under the impression that she was like a puppy that would be wagging her tail constantly, if she'd had one. There was something serene and determined, yet fierce and reckless about the way she'd responded to the call to arms. Such intensity had frightened him.

She had nothing left to lose.

Sure enough, the woman that once couldn't stay awake past midnight fought until dawn for the little piece of world that she had left. And when it was all said and done, as he grieved with his family for the loss of his brother, she stood alone.

Well, she didn't stand strictly alone. At one moment she stood next to George and whispered a few words in his ear. She addressed his parents in a similar matter, with soft words that went unacknowledged. Then she caught Charlie's stare. It was obvious that she didn't quite know what to say, but wanted to say _something_, and he was amazed at how much compassion she was showing considering she was the one who had lost absolutely everything.

"How are you?" he whispered.

"That's a dumb question."

"It is, isn't it?"

She leaned in, speaking so thinly that he could barely hear her. "Look, I'd say I'm sorry for your loss, and I am. But Fred- Fred's everyone's loss, really, and I'm just sorry for all of us. I haven't met a single person who knew him that isn't trying to cope with this." Charlie thought that, in a way, those were the sweetest, kindest words anyone could ever say about Fred. He nodded in acknowledgment, still without strength to say anything.

"He was a hell of a Beater," she continued, "and a fantastic friend – a bit of a big brother to me when I was at Hogwarts, scaring off potential dates and all that… He and George would visit me every week when I was in St. Mungo's last year. They surely brightened my life in such a difficult time."

Katie was providing a distraction, and talking about Fred was all too painful. However, Katie's presence was oddly soothing, so he wasn't willing to let her go just yet. "Why were you in St. Mungo's?" he asked.

She seemed surprised he didn't know. "It was all over The Prophet. I was victim to the Imperius curse and during that time, I touched an object with a really powerful curse. I was in immense pain for months."

"Well, I don't really read The Daily Prophet. Working abroad makes it difficult for me to keep fully up to date."

"It was very noble of you to come and fight nonetheless."

"I never did abandon the fight."

To his surprise, she allowed herself to smile. But just as he was reveling in her gesture, a big yawn took control of her features.

"You know, I haven't even seen a bed in months. I think I'm going up to the common room to get some sleep. No – I'm going to shower, _then_ I'm going to sleep. You know, it's good to be back."

He could tell she didn't want his pity, but a feeling akin to compassion revealed itself as it became apparent that Hogwarts was the only roof she could possibly have above her head. She had no pillow to place her head on, no one to welcome her home, and yet there she was – trying to distract him from Fred's death.

Part of him wanted to be the one to take her away.

_Don't go,_ he wanted to say. _Come with me. I'll help you start anew._

But he said nothing, because while life went on for him, for Katie everything was a new beginning and it would've seemed unfair to take advantage of her vulnerability. Unfair and crazy.

"Then-" He cleared his throat. "Then I guess that I'll wake you up before Astronomy."

She smiled softly. "What an awful joke, Charlie."

"I know. Sorry." But he was trying not to focus on the fact that her voice could spell his name just right, just as it was meant to be said.

"Don't be. A joke is a joke, and I appreciate it. Thanks for this lovely talk, Charlie." She made a small pause. "To me, it's either forget or die forgotten, and I've made my choice."

As Katie walked away from him, Charlie understood that her words would stick with him for a long time.

* * *

Years later, Charlie couldn't help but wonder why it took him so long to realize he loved Katie Bell.

But back then, he could only think of her as a woman who had twice entered his heart - though twice was two times more than any other woman.

Vulcan was home to Romania's most notorious wizarding pub and to the headquarters of the dragon reserve. It wasn't uncommon for him to drink some after work, and it wasn't uncommon for tourists to stop by before touring the reserve. That night, he wasn't surprised to hear a group of people speaking with a strong English accent.

"Charlie? Charlie Weasley?"

What he didn't expect was to see her right then, right there.

He didn't even expect to recognize her voice. He remembered her as an innocent child, or maybe the defeated optimist he'd talked to at the end of the war – still a girl in many ways. So he didn't expect to see such a beautiful _woman_ standing in front of him, with dramatic make-up and red robes and everything that just screamed _Gryffindor_.

(Everything that just screamed _take me._)

So many times he'd thought about her. So many nights he wondered where she was, what she was doing, and if life was working out for her and finally remunerating her for all of the joy she loved to spread…

"Katie." His voice came out choked, but he couldn't bring himself to regain his composure since that would mean showing her that he'd lost it. "What are you doing here?"

"Work. Business. Whatever you call it. How about you?"

"I work nearby."

"Oh, right. Dragons – how could I forget?."

She took a seat beside him. For some reason, this sole gesture made Charlie's hard beat so hard and fast that he thought she could hear it.

"Allow me to buy you a drink." He'd used that line so many times in the past, so it sounded trivial. But it was comfortable. It was the only thing that came to mind in Katie's powerful proximity.

He signaled to the bartender. He was a regular, so that's all he needed to do. He didn't know if it made him feel at home, or it made him feel lonely. Maybe a little bit of both – unless it was Katie with him, and it felt so familiar and so _right._

"What are you getting me?" And that was Katie, not 'yes' or 'no' but unrestrained curiosity.

"I'm getting you Romania's very own special - brandy made of plums. In this case, it was made by the owners of this pub themselves. Here in Romania it's not uncommon for people to make their own alcohol. Throw in some magic…" He signaled at the shot glasses the bartender had left in front of them. "You can bet the results will be interesting."

She brought the glass to her nose, then her lips. "This is water, Charlie."

"Then drink with me. What should we drink for?"

She thought about his question for a few seconds, in which Charlie allowed himself to examine her. He still couldn't believe it. He couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that this was Katie Bell drinking and laughing with him.

"For the next one." The words came out of her mouth as if they were carefully chosen. She held up her glass, returning Charlie's stare with the same intensity.

He held up his glass with a smile before he drank its contents in one single motion. It tasted like water, sure, with a faint scent of plums. But then he felt it – it was so familiar, so soothing. He loved that sweet burning sensation in his stomach and the immediate dizziness that came with it.

Judging by Katie's reaction, she did not.

"Another one, then?" he asked.

"That was… interesting, but I have to pass."

"But we drank to the next one, didn't we?"

"Then we'll have to meet again." She shrugged. "Too bad we travel to Budapest early tomorrow, and we need to look and act professional."

"What's your line of work, anyway?"

"I dedicate to the art of Curse-Breaking."

"Oh? That's what my brother Bill used to do."

"Except that Gringotts is for those who graduated Hogwarts." She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "Now take my team, for example. We specialize in cursed objects, like-like the necklace that cursed me." It was the first time Katie's words faltered, which didn't go unnoticed by Charlie. "We've succeeded all around Europe, generally – and now we're here. What we do is barely legal - some people don't want to get the government involved in their issues when they probably should. But sometimes, like now, it's the government who doesn't want to get involved."

He nodded to accept her brief explanation, allowing an amiable silence involve them both. Of all the things, he never thought Katie would be one to actively seek danger. He had wanted to think Katie had gotten some peace. He'd wanted to think she'd be married with children, or at least too busy being a rising Quidditch star to care about anything else. He'd wanted to think she'd remained friends with George and his wife, and everyone she cared of that the war hadn't taken away.

Instead she was chasing her nightmares and forcing them to stare her in the eye. And it unsettled him.

"Katie, do you-" He was aware his question was out of line. "Do you have a boyfriend back home?"

She laughed, but there was something bitter about her laugh. "I've got no home. This is my life. The only people I've got left are my team and well, even if I wanted a boyfriend, I really can't allow myself to even fancy any of those nutcases. We've got a job to do, you know?"

He knew – he understood all too well.

"So are you going to keep doing this forever?"

She shrugged. "I don't know what will happen, and I don't care. I mean, I could die in every single job we do and it doesn't really matter." She looked intently at her glass, as if avoiding to look at him. But then her gaze returned to his eyes and it was stronger than ever. "I've stared at death in the eye more than once. It doesn't scare me anymore."

The careless tone in which she spoke startled him, for it contradicted her demeanor. It appeared to communicate that she meant every single word and she really didn't care if she died.

If no one else, then he did.

"Do you-do you wish to die?"

All bitterness aside, she laughed loudly – louder than the retro music that played from the radio; loud enough to turn some heads. Suddenly she was the girl that needed to be woken up for her midnight lessons, way before all the darkness that consumed her life.

"Charlie, you deal with some of the most dangerous creatures in the world for a living. Do _you _wish to die?"

"I love my job," he answered honestly. "Do you, Katie?"

"It's my passion. It's like I told you once – I can either forget or die forgotten."

"I've been wondering… for years," he added the last part reluctantly. "What do you mean by that, exactly?"

Again, his vulnerability before her had no effect. It was almost as if she expected or –he hoped- shared it. Maybe she did, for it took her a while to answer and when she did, she looked more grave and serious than she'd looked last time he'd seen her.

"If I forget everything that's happened to me," she said, "it becomes a moot point. If I forget that I was once cursed, it's as if I'd died that very same day. If I let darkness spread, I'll let some other girl's parents be murdered like mine were. If only one person remembers me as someone who brought them a little bit of light – just then, I'll feel like I reached my goal."

And he wanted to say,_ you don't need to endanger yourself to bring me light._

He said nothing. After a few seconds, Katie excused herself and left without as much as a goodbye – she'd said too much, probably. She'd said more than she'd ever told anyone.

In some ways, Charlie had her. But she was gone – maybe forever.

He had another shot. And another_. And another._ Such a kind of alcohol was, indeed, just like water until it reached the inside, where it evoked the most interesting, amazing reactions leaving a sweet aftertaste.

Just like Katie.

* * *

Years later, Charlie would wonder just how he'd been able to miss the signals.

But right then, he was just happy to see her.

Katie was no longer the pinnacle of youth, beauty and everything desirable. Her body had taken the strains of her job; exhaustion and desolation were apparent. But she still was the only woman he could've ever wanted to keep by his side.

True, she always seemed to have one more job to travel to. He always thought that she could die on the next one, but she always seemed to find her way back to Vulcan.

And, just that once, into Charlie's arms.

He had no explanation for it. He'd never tried anything with the full knowledge that she wouldn't settle down – not in Romania, at least. But it was her who initiated it. It was her who kissed him so hard, his whole world spun around him. It was her who suggested that they go back to his place.

And all he could think was that she was acting too boldly, even for her. Maybe it had something to do with the danger of her next job – but he'd never know. She'd never tell him.

But right then, with her hands feeling so wonderful against his skin, he couldn't let himself be preoccupied.

"I've waited for so long," he whispered against her ear before trailing kisses down her neck, shoulders, everywhere he could reach.

"You've always had me," she responded, tangling a hand into his hair. "I've let you see things that no one else has seen."

He doubted she was talking about her body, pale as the moon shone on its every bare curve. He knew she was talking about everything else – things that went deeper than her skin, or her tired eyes, or her thin hair.

She was talking about everything he loved; everything he wanted to keep by his side. And so, the woman that once had trouble to stay awake past midnight kept him awake until sunrise.

It was the happiest night of his life.

And it was over way too soon.

"I must go," she whispered. Charlie was amazed at how detached she tried to appear, even if tears trailed black on her face, and her lipstick had smudged on his lips.

She was going, once again. He wanted to beg her not to, but he had to catch himself. He wanted to tell her that she should stop trying and stop fighting; she wanted her to let him do it for her.

And those black trails on her cheeks convinced him to speak.

"Don't go, Katie," he whispered. "Stay with me."

She shook her head. "It's not my time, Charlie. Don't have me ask you to let me go."

Once again, she was gone. And for the first time, he understood what she meant. She'd explained her words a few times, but they still seemed so estranged until that very moment.

_Forget or die forgotten._

He would've given anything to forget her, just then – forget that he ever kissed her, touched her, loved her. He'd give everything up, if it meant that she would still remember him wherever she went.

* * *

Years later, Charlie would think of the many things he could've had written on Katie's tombstone.

But at the moment, 'Not Forgotten' had seemed like the best bet.


End file.
